[white room of the studio, yesterday afternoon]
I had this funny sort of realization yesterday afternoon whilst in the white room making paper molds for some enameling hopes I have. I heard the neighbor’s dogs yapping in her yard, I heard some boys down the road hollering and there was a bit of rain splattering against the half circle window that graces the white room with so much gorgeous light — I realized that the quiet of winter has melted away. You know how much I adore winter. I love the white hush of it. I truly do. It stills my soul. Once all that icy insulation melts away the world tends to get noisy. Let me tell you something about noise, it’s quite contrary to my personality because I’m a rather bombastic, high energy individual and I tend to speak in bursts of exclamations, but I do not like noise. Too much of it, especially when I am working or writing, tends to make my mind feel like it’s unraveling! Oh! It makes me feel like I’m standing on the precipice of insanity. Noise is my nemesis while I’m at work in the studio. It’s funny, on occasion, when I get around to fabricating I will blare music in my workspace and really jam around while I’m soldering or sawing but most of the time I need the serene, soft winking of classical music (piano mostly) and even this, at times, is too much. In the summer, when the neighborhood is loud, I often play music very loudly in the studio in an attempt to mask the outside world, regardless, I often feel disrupted by the noise that filters in past the walls and glass.
This is all to say I had the full sensation of the arrival of spring yesterday and usually, this would make me feel blue, because it would mean that Rob’s departure for the fire season would be at hand. But not this year. This year I depart with him for the duration of the fire season and I find myself greatly anticipating the move. I shouldn’t speak of it, so as not to jinx it or let my hopes rise to stratospheric heights before the details are set in stone, but we’re in the final moments of officially renting an acreage outside of Winthrop. The property is lovely and there’s even a sort of lookout tower built just up from the house that I will most likely claim as a creative work space. It features massive windows that look out into unfettered space. There is a hen coop for the chickens, a little orchard, an aviary, a full acre of fenced garden, a barn and the most charming little rustic Methow Valley house you have ever seen, complete with a myriad of windows and character. So you see, I cannot contain my excitement, I’m going to explode! If something unforseen takes place and we end up not living on this acreage, I will surely cry. I’m so enchanted by the promise of rural seclusion this summer, a quiet work space, being with Robert during the six months we are usually apart, having coffee with Hannah nearly every single morning…and I’m also excited about feeling and experiencing how a new territory, how a new geographic location and environment affects me. Already my trigger finger is itching, I want to photograph it all and catch the new ways the light falls through a different kind of forest. I want to bundle up the sensations of it in words, for you, for me, and then spill it across paper with a fine tipped pen.
The waiting is nearly too much to bear. I have to wedge myself into this very moment I’m living or a breeze will catch the edges of me and take me away. Some bird will pluck me like a seed, out of thin air, and carry me aloft in its beak.
——————————————————————————
It’s been such a funny sort of week here. Hithery and dithery. I’m clad in running gear at the moment and am about to take the pointers out for some exercise. Yesterday we noticed our gardens that receive full, hot sunlight during the day are showing the tiny chartreuse tips of tulips beginning to push up through the dirt. There’s divinity in the mush of mud under foot, sections of grass are beginning to green, the sway of bird song is raining down from the elm trees. How blessed are we to be part of a world that is reborn every single year in so many different ways? I’m in love with it.
Have a wonderful Friday, you beauties.
xx
Oh my gosh, Jillian. I am so happy for you. For so many reasons. How glorious. Now I can’t wait, either, to see what you will have to show us. Thrilled for you, girl.
Thanks for the thrilled-ness, you beauty. 🙂 xxx
I am so so excited for you. Can’t wait to see it all through your lens and your work. The property sounds truly magical. I live in Seattle and hope to convince you to join me for tea one day while you are here…my soul would love to meet yours. (I do have a crush on Tater you know) Now that I re-read this it sounds kinda creepy but I mean it.
Genie,
I shall be in Seattle a few times over the summer. I have a few best friends who live in the city and on Bainbridge. You won’t have to work hard to convince me to join you for tea, especially if there are crumpets!
Yay! Seriously would love to meet you in person! Be prepared for a future invite!! And of course, there will be crumpets…that’s how I roll! ;P
your passion, joy and anticipation are contagious!
Those are good things to catch. 🙂 Better than the flu, at least.
“The waiting is nearly too much to bear. I have to wedge myself into this very moment I’m living or a breeze will catch the edges of me and take me away. Some bird will pluck me like a seed, out of thin air, and carry me aloft in its beak.”
Damn, woman! The impossible beauty of your writing is too much to bear! This verse took my breath away.
Gosh! Thank you. Thank you for being here today, dear woman. x
from one snowqueen to another, that may be one of my favourite reasons to love winter: the hushed beauty of it all.
xx
You totally comprehend my love for winter. It’s one of the things I cherish most about you. xxxxx
And you’ll be a measly 4 hours away. Will you come in late August to meet the girl-baby?
I WILL BE YOUR MIDWIFE!!!
…maybe. If I can handle it.
It is good to have a kindred spirit of silence. I loathe noise; it makes me feel as if I’m being attacked.
I am so very glad that you are looking forward to the summer with an easy and excited heart. It is good to see the joy in your spirit as this summer approaches.
Be well, friend.
“I loathe noise; it makes me feel as if I’m being attacked.”
Oh. Friend. Exactly.
I too would be that excited and even more if that were possible…I found myself nodding in agreement with you all the way, and I ALWAYS wonder at “divinity in the mush of mud under foot”, plus how tiny we are. Have a great weekend J! There is no such a thing as jinx! xx
I know.
I know there’s no such thing as JINX…..but we’ve worked so hard to make this happen this year that the plans, until they actually happen, feel so fragile to me. 🙂 Love you. xx
We’ll have to do a ward-off-jinx dance, you in Pokie and I in Pasadena! They we will sell the video and we will become very rich! xx
HA HA HA!!!!!!!!
Mona.
Can it look a bit like a Maori Haka?
Well, your plans sound utterly fantastic, and I love the photo of the “white room.” Sounds Virginia Woolf-ish; I wonder if she had a space like that?
It does sound kind of Woolf-y, doesn’t it?
I wonder about her life spaces too.
I’m going to google her and see what I can find out.
oh jeepers, jillian!
i just packaged something up for you THAT I PICKED UP THERE!!
monk’s house, i mean.
wait and see…
amazing news! i pray it all pans out, and not just so we can see pictures. 😉
i feel just the same about too much noise. and i live in a factory town so i MIGHT go insane all the time.
BAH HA HA!!!!!
Well. I guess we’re all probably a little bit insane:) I won’t tell anyone you’re wacky. Don’t worry. xx
I live in San Francisco, but have spent years in quiet, whispery-winter places; I find that I miss that, the whiteness that you speak of (“white noise” in a different manner). Snow muffling the tiniest noises! I miss it, even though I’m a sunshine girl, myself. I miss how quiet it would get, inside my heart and outside, both. A funny thing, winter.
Esme, “I miss how quiet it would get, inside my heart and outside, both.” — that’s just what I mean! I’m glad you understand. Everything does feel so quiet, delicate and steady in winter. I miss it already.
Thank you for being here today.
🙂
Exactly! A lot of good things are happening and coming, don’t feel blue! 🙂
Have a great week-end you too!
xx
It’s impossible to feel blue here, at the moment, everything is fizzing with potential! xx
oh baby doll, can i Gables sit while you(s) are away…i’m smack dab in the middle of NOISE…24/7, well maybe 20/7…that when i trek out to the hills of silence, it takes me a week just to decompress & detox!!!
i’ve missed you.
& i love you.
XO
N!
Where have you been?!!!
I’ve missed you too.
We would have LOVED to have you in our home over the summer months, giving care to the gardens and the fruit trees. It would have been so good for you, strolling in the sage brush up on my mountain.
xx
I have a HUGE laugh but seek out silence, with chattering birds. Oh, and by th by, i’m clairvoyant. You dear plume WILL be frolicking on your acreage soon. Can’t wait to hear all about it!
I appreciate your foresight on this matter, Madame Prairie!
this was a best-of-both-worlds post from you– reflective and introspective/giddy with excitement! i love both of those, and of course the warp and the weft of your word weaving make them all the more wonderful. i’m so happy about your summer plans. you make living a true art form.
xx
Girl.
Thank you.
xx
IT’S CHRISTMAS AT JILLIAN’S!!! Those crazy noisy kids just don’t realize that it’s still winter, because as we all know, Christmas in in the WINTER time. Tell them to go back inside, or they’ll catch a death of a cold. It’s Christmas at Jillians…
Ooh!!! Clever! 🙂
I’ll see if I can trick them.
and i think i am in love with you! with your hunger and curiosity and wonder.
always a joy to read
That is super exciting! I see it happening for you. We are also in the midst of house-moving and I can hardly wait with any piece of patience at all. I just want the documents signed and in my hand. It is so hard to wait and I’m just willing things to go perfectly with the strength of my thoughts.
The ‘half-year house’ sounds like an amazing spot for you guys!
Glenn Gould is what i listen to as well. the mister is quite obsessed with him. and is currently self-teaching/studying piano. in no way is he ever as great as Glenn, but, well, who is? well, maybe lots of people (i dont know of… yet). anyhow. my medicine for silence is ear plugs + big-ass bose headphones + Glenn because we have possibly the worst neighbors evah! anyway. silence while working… i totally get it. 10 x tenfold!
This post really speaks to me. I long for rural seclusion and the hush of a cold winter. Loving your blog!